My Best Friend's Girl
by Lyrical Ballads
Summary: Guns. Narcotics. Italian mobsters. These are all things that Beni wants to avoid, but after being forced to spend time with Rick's obnoxious girlfriend, he accidentally gets involved in a shady deal gone horribly wrong.
1. Little Miss Brooklyn

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Mummy_. Title of the story was borrowed from "My Best Friend's Girl" by The Cars.

**Author's Note:** As usual, I don't need another story, but a new OC popped into my head and she wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this. I've explored Beni's relationships with women in a lot of different ways, but here's an angle I haven't tried yet, and it's proven to be a lot of fun so far.

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**My Best Friend's Girl**

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_Little Miss Brooklyn_

"Say, Beni. Did I ever tell ya how I came to Egypt?"

Beni took a drag on his cigarette and glared at the woman who sat across from him. Normally he wouldn't mind having drinks with a classic Italian beauty, especially when she had such full red lips, waves of black hair, and the biggest, darkest eyes Beni had ever seen, but he would gladly shove this particular woman into the Nile and let the crocodiles devour her. "No, you did not," he said wearily. "And I don't want to hear it."

"Oh, yeah? You don't wanna hear it?" She glared back at him, her dark eyes narrowed beneath her thin black brows. "Well you're gonna hear it, bozo. Richie says ya gotta entertain me when he's busy."

"O'Connell would never say that."

"How do _you_ know, huh? You ever get into Richie's head and see what he's thinkin'? You some kinda mind reader, Beni?"

God, he hated her voice. It grated on the ears. She said she was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, and Beni wished she had stayed there so he wouldn't have to listen to her strong Brooklyn accent. He could barely understand her half the time. "A mind what?" he asked, wishing he was drunk already. Why didn't he order straight vodka instead of this stupid cocktail?

"A mind reader," she repeated. It sounded like "ree-dah" coming out of her big mouth. "Ya know, you read minds. Is that what you been doin'? Are you a fancypants smart guy who has all the answers?"

There was that damn accent again, playing havoc with Beni's brain. How was he supposed to understand her when she said things like "smawt" and "an-sahs"? He put out his cigarette on the table and imagined how convenient it would be if he could extinguish her voice just as easily. All women ought to be more like cigarettes; you could use them just long enough to satisfy your craving, and then when you were done you could snuff them out.

"Why do you even bother talking, Olivia?" said Beni. "You know I hate talking to you."

Olivia Catania. Little Miss Brooklyn. Miss Pain-in-the-Ass, as far as Beni was concerned, but he couldn't say that around O'Connell because she happened to be O'Connell's latest girlfriend. Beni didn't know how a guy with the last name O'Connell managed to snag a girl whose parents came from Sicily, but he hoped she would come to her senses and stick to her own kind. Or at least stick to somebody who could drag her ass back to Brooklyn.

"I _know_ ya hate talkin' to me, ya dumbbell," said Olivia. "That's why I sat down at ya table. You're so much fun to harass."

Olivia wouldn't know what shame was if it crawled up her skirt and gave her syphilis. She treated Beni like a dog, as if he had been placed upon the earth just so she could abuse him, and she had the nerve to call O'Connell "Richie" right to his face. O'Connell let her get away with it, too. The last person who called him Richie got his nose broken.

"Why don't you swim back to your whorehouse in Brooklyn, you filthy little wop?" said Beni.

Her big, dark eyes got even bigger and she made a noise that was more of a cackle than a giggle. "_Ohhhh_, we're pullin' out the big insults tonight, ain't we, bohunk?"

"You're nothing but a dago whore, and your brother is a greaseball."

"I'd rather be a dago than a hunyak, ya scrawny lil' hunyak."

"Guinea slut."

"Goddamn gypsy bastard."

Beni took a swig of his cocktail and wondered how long it would take for him to black out. He didn't know why he allowed himself to get trapped in these horrible conversations, but at least he was sure that he hated Olivia Catania more than he had ever hated anyone before, and he had good reason for it too. He didn't hate Olivia because she was O'Connell's girlfriend, or because she was Italian, or even because she had an annoying accent.

He hated Olivia Catania because she never kept her mouth shut. She was a mouthy little bitch, and there was nothing Beni despised more than a mouthy little bitch.

She tapped her fingers on the table in an angry rhythm, drawing his eyes to the bright red paint on her nails. "You're a real jackass. Did ya know that, Beni? Ya made me lose my train of thought!"

"That is not hard to do," Beni said with a snicker.

"Aw, put a sock in it. I was s'posed to tell ya how I came to Egypt, remember?"

"And I told you I don't want to hear about it."

"Well you're gonna hear about it anyway. You don't want Richie's favorite girl to spend her evening all lonesome, do ya?"

_Heah. Goil. _Her damn accent was getting to him again. "No, of course not," Beni said mockingly. "I would hate to see poor little Olivia drink all by herself. I think O'Connell is just pretending to be busy so he does not have to hear your voice."

"Didn't I tell ya to put a sock in it, ya bozo? Now a few months ago I'm in Brooklyn, right? And my brother Georgie is in a lotta trouble. Georgie's always in some kinda trouble, 'cause he's got these rough friends who are always runnin' around the city, hijackin' liquor trucks and stealin' booze and gunnin' people down all the time. I ain't s'posed to know about this, of course, since I'm a woman and all, but I ain't blind and I ain't deaf either. So one day Georgie finds out—"

Beni sighed loudly, cutting off her story. "Does this have a point?"

"Does _what_ have a point, Ya Majesty?"

"The story. Is there a point to this story?"

"Of course there is, ya dope!" said Olivia. "I'm tellin' ya how I came to Egypt."

"Well get to the Egypt part already. You are boring me."

Olivia rolled her dark eyes at Beni, took a sip of her cocktail, and picked up from where she left off. "_Anyway_, Georgie finds out that he's in trouble. Some of these rough friends of his are plannin' to bump him off or somethin', so he's gotta leave the country or else he'll be sleepin' in the East River, wearin' cement shoes. So Georgie says to me, he says, 'Hey kid, ya wanna see Egypt?' Well I don't even know where Egypt is, but it's gotta be better than this slum we're livin' in, right? I always thought I'd marry a rich man and make my escape, but that rich man seems to think I've got all the fuckin' time in the world, 'cause I don't see him anywhere, so I says, 'Sure, Georgie! Get me the hell outta here!' And next thing I know, I'm in Egypt."

"Thank God it is over," Beni groaned.

"Say, you wanna hear about the time I met Richie?"

"_No_."

Beni didn't understand why women had to talk so much. _Talk talk talk._ That was all they did, and Olivia was the worst. She looked so innocent, with her big eyes and her pouty lips, and people thought she was just a harmless little Italian tourist looking for sunshine and buried treasure, until she opened her damn mouth and started blabbing. O'Connell wasn't seeing her because of her conversation skills, that was for sure.

Olivia started tapping her fingers on the table again, looking like a cheap whore with her red-painted nails and her fake gold bracelets. "I'm bored," she said. "Why don'tcha pay for the drinks and take me outta here?"

"Pay for the drinks?" Beni echoed in disbelief. "Why would I pay for your drink? I am not the one who drank it."

"Well I sure ain't payin' for it," said Olivia. "I'm a lady, and ladies don't hafta pay when there's a man around. That's how it works, ya dummy. Just ask anyone."

"A lady?" Beni echoed again. "What the hell makes you a lady? You swear and you're rude and you abuse me all the time. Good girls are supposed to treat men with respect."

"Ha! Ya think ya deserve my respect, Beni? You won't even pay for my drink."

"Why should I throw away my hard-earned money on a drink that is not mine?" Beni whined at her. "I don't think you are a real Italian. You're nothing but a stingy Jew bitch."

"I'm a Jew bitch, am I? With this cross 'round my neck?" Olivia showed him the little cross that dangled above her breasts, the only piece of jewelry she owned that wasn't fake. "You think you're somethin' clever, callin' me a Jew bitch, but I used to know some Jews in Brooklyn and they were a _lot _nicer than you."

"If you like them so much, then go back to Brooklyn," said Beni.

"I can't. I've got a drink that ain't paid for yet."

She could argue with him all night if he let her. That was the problem with Italians, and Sicilians in particular. They were always looking for an excuse to fight, and when they couldn't find an excuse they created one. Beni rubbed his aching head and muttered some Hungarian swear words under his breath, then pulled out some money he had stolen last night and threw it on the table for the waiter to pick up, knowing it was the only way to keep Olivia from raking her sharp nails across his face.

"There," he spat at her. "Are you happy now?"

"No," said Olivia, with a haughty toss of her head. "I ain't happy. I'm bored, remember?"

"Well that is not my problem."

"I bet Georgie can find somethin' fun to do. Let's go find Georgie."

Beni was terrified of Georgie. The man had never harmed him, but he always stood around with his thick arms crossed in front of his chest, glowering at Beni like he was the worst kind of rat. "I don't want to find Georgie," said Beni, allowing a whine to creep into his voice again. "Georgie hates me."

"Oh, Georgie doesn't hate you," said Olivia. "Georgie could never hate you. Richie's the one he doesn't like."

"I thought everyone liked O'Connell."

"Not Georgie. He hates it that I'm seein' a mick. He can't stand Irishmen."

"Well I'm still not going. You can find Georgie yourself."

Olivia's full lips curved into a wicked smirk. "Ya want me to tell Richie ya tried to rape me? 'Cause that's what I'll do if ya don't go with me. I'll tell Richie ya tried to rape me, and you almost got away with it too."

"Why the hell would I rape you?" said Beni. "I would never touch you."

"Really, Beni?" The smirk disappeared and a pout took its place. "You don't find me just a lil' bit attractive? Not even a _lil'_ bit?"

Of course he found her attractive. He would have to be an idiot not to find her attractive, but he would rather slit that pretty little throat than take her to bed. If she wasn't involved with O'Connell, he _would_ slit that pretty little throat, if he could swallow his nausea at the thought of getting close to her. How could O'Connell stand to touch her, anyway? Did he put a gag over her mouth every time he took her home?

"Shut up and get outside," said Beni. "I'll help you look for your brother, all right?"

"Sure, I'll go outside," said Olivia, smirking again. "But I'm not gonna shut up. Not now and not ever."


	2. A Real Knucklehead

**Author's Note: **This is probably going to be updated sporadically. _Very_ sporadically. But I was in the mood for writing something ridiculous and dialogue-heavy, so here's another chapter!_  
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_A Real Knucklehead_

"Why do I have to go with you to your apartment?" Beni complained. "You can find your own damn apartment."

He had been trailing after Olivia for the last couple of minutes, ever since they left the bar, and he finally managed to get a word in edgewise after listening to her jabber on about her stupid brother Georgie, who was probably at the apartment, and how Beni should escort her there. As if she needed an escort. All she had to do was open her loud mouth and the crooks would run for their lives.

"I know I can find my own apartment, dummy," said Olivia, tossing a glare at him over her shoulder. "I ain't stupid. But what if Georgie ain't home, huh? There could be a burglar inside the apartment, but if _you_ come along, then he'll attack you instead of me."

"Why would he attack me instead?" said Beni.

He couldn't see Olivia's face at the moment, since she walked in front of him and stared straight ahead, but he could practically _hear_ her smirking. "Cause you're ugly. That's why."

"That is your opinion."

"Nuh-uh. I _know_ you're ugly. Everyone knows you're ugly. And a burglar would rather attack your ugly mug than a nice lil' girl like me any day."

There was nothing nice about Olivia, but Beni often felt like the only man in Cairo who realized it. O'Connell definitely didn't see it, or else he wouldn't waste his time screwing a girl like her, but of course O'Connell wasted his time with a lot of dumb girls. The idea that opposites attracted was complete bullshit.

"That is your opinion," Beni said again, staring sullenly at Olivia's heels as they clacked on the ground. "I once knew a woman in Budapest who said I was handsome."

"Who?" said Olivia. "Ya mother?"

"No, a _real _woman, with breasts much bigger than yours."

The woman was actually a blind prostitute who would probably screw a cow if somebody paid her to, but Beni would never tell Olivia that. He couldn't tell her even if he wanted to, because she whirled around and smacked him with her handbag. "Disgusting bastard," she said. "Didn't anybody ever tell ya it ain't polite to talk about a lady's body like that?"

"You are just jealous that her breasts were bigger."

Olivia heaved an impatient little sigh at him, then turned a street corner as Cairo's dark sky became darker and the desert chill started to seep in. "You wanna know somethin' that I don't understand, Beni?" Olivia asked, halting so suddenly that Beni almost ran into her.

"No," said Beni.

"Well I'm gonna tell it to you anyway." Olivia didn't seem to care that they were standing in front of a run-down apartment building, where people were staring at them through the windows. She raised her big, dark eyes to meet Beni's, her hands planted firmly on her generous hips. "I don't understand why you ugly fellas always gotta be the biggest perverts. Why's it always the ugly ones, huh? Ya never hear Richie sayin' the kinda stuff that comes outta your mouth."

Beni wished that "Richie" would tie her up with rope, stuff her into a crate, and ship her back to Brooklyn where she belonged. "Stop calling me ugly."

"Fine," said Olivia. "But ya look like a real knucklehead. What's the point of havin' a mustache if you can't even grow a real one? Is that teeny-tiny little thing really the best you can do?"

"There is nothing wrong with my mustache."

"And that _hair_!" she exclaimed. She grabbed the fez that Beni wore and yanked it off his head, exposing the dark, disordered hair that he normally kept hidden. "What kinda haircut is that, Beni? You get it trimmed by a drunk barber or somethin'?"

"Give me that." Beni snatched his fez and jammed it onto his head, then started walking to escape the stares and snickers of the people inside the apartment. Olivia only lived a few streets from the bar, but the distance felt like miles. "I don't know why O'Connell puts up with you," he grumbled.

"Cause he likes me," Olivia replied smugly.

"Oh yeah? Well you will not always be with O'Connell. Someday you will marry an Italian man and live in some cramped little apartment. And when your greasy wop of a husband is finished knocking you up for the tenth time, he will beat you and give you some more bruises to add to your collection."

Her voice came out quieter than usual. "I'm not gonna live like that."

"Of course you will. That is what all Italian girls do."

"You some kinda expert on Italian girls, Mr. Smarty-Pants?"

"I don't have to be. Everyone knows that it's true."

"Ya know, I bet the rest of you is as tiny as that mustache," said Olivia, smirking at him as they finally reached her street.

"Shut the hell up," said Beni. "I thought it was not polite to talk about those things."

"Only if you're talkin' about a lady."

"Well you are no lady."

"Neither are you, bozo. Now come on. Ya gotta come with me in case there's a burglar."

But all of Olivia's fears about burglars came to nothing, because the only unsavory character lurking in the apartment was her brother Georgie, who sat in an armchair polishing a gun with a dirty piece of rag. He wore a sleeveless white shirt under his suspenders, exposing muscles that would gladly crush Beni in half for no good reason, and wore his black hair in the greased-down style that Italian men seemed to prefer. He looked up the moment Olivia opened the door and squinted at them in the dim light, finally focusing on Beni with a dark pair of eyes much narrower than his sister's.

"Ya didn't bring the mick," he said.

"Nope," said Olivia, throwing her handbag down on a table. "I didn't bring the mick."

"Good," said Georgie. "But what'd you bring this clown for, huh?"

"I thought you'd need a laugh."

"Ha," Georgie grunted. "Ain't nothin' funny about this guy, except for his looks."

"See?" said Olivia, nudging Beni with her elbow. "Even Georgie says you're ugly, and Georgie used to go around with this girl whose eyebrows were so close together, it looked like she had only _one_ eyebrow. She probably woulda liked ya, Beni."

"Yes, well I have to get going now," Beni said with a nervous laugh. The apartment smelled like garlic and that gun in Georgie's lap made him uneasy. "I have to, uh, get home and feed my dog. He gets very hungry."

"What kinda dog?" said Georgie. He raised his gun, failing to realize that he had aimed the barrel right at Beni, and scrubbed at the handle with his rag.

Beni stared with wide eyes, unable to take his gaze off the weapon. "What?"

"I said, what kinda dog?"

"I don't know. A big one, with four legs and a tail."

"Olivia, I told ya this clown ain't funny," said Georgie, waving his rag in Beni's direction. "He gets stupider every time I see him."

Olivia replied with something in Italian and Georgie responded in the same language, while Beni stood there glowering at the two of them, because in spite of his knack for picking up languages, he had never managed to learn Italian. He strained his ears in frustrated silence, trying to pick out words that sounded similar to French, and was so absorbed in listening to Olivia and Georgie go back and forth that he forgot about his intention to leave the apartment.

"Hey, you," said Georgie, addressing Beni in English. He used his gun to point at a nearby sofa. "Have a seat."

Beni wasn't about to argue with a man holding a weapon and shuffled over to the sofa, wincing when the springs creaked under his weight. "Whatever you might think, I didn't do it!" he began, looking at Georgie with wide, panicky eyes. "I swear, I didn't do it!"

"Nobody did anything," said Georgie. "What'sa matter with you?"

"I don't know. I thought—"

"Forget about it," Georgie cut in. He set the gun back in his lap and leaned forward in his seat, staring hard at Beni with his dark, hypnotic gaze that glued Beni to his spot on the sofa. "How'd ya like to make a little dough?"

"You mean money?" said Beni, frowning.

"What, are ya hard of hearin'? Of course I mean money. Whaddya say?"

"What about me?" said Olivia. "Don'tcha think your own sister would like to make some dough, Georgie? These clothes don't pay for themselves, ya know."

"This doesn't concern you, kid," said Georgie. "Beat it."

Olivia got down on her knees and clung to the arm of Georgie's chair, pouting at him with her big, full lips and wide eyes. "But _Georgie_. You're s'posed to entertain _me_, not Beni. I only brought Beni along so you could laugh at him."

"Well he ain't funny," said Georgie. "So I'm makin' him work instead. I bet you know a lotta dope fiends," he added, turning to Beni. "Weaselly little fellas like you always know a lotta dope fiends."

Beni didn't know any personally, but he couldn't walk ten feet in his neighborhood without running into an addict or two. They were more numerous than rats and twice as bad. "Maybe I do," he told Georgie slowly, his nervous eyes locked upon the gun that sat idle in his lap. "Why do you ask?"

"I've got this pal called Tony Brass Hands who's comin' into town tomorrow," Georgie began.

"They call him Tony Brass Hands 'cause he always wears brass knuckles when he hits people," Olivia added with un-ladylike enthusiasm. "He sent a guy to the hospital just by punchin' him in the stomach."

"Nobody cares," said Beni.

"You really gotta meet him, Beni. He might be able to improve ya face."

"I told you to stop calling me ugly!"

Olivia looked ready to open her big mouth again, but a knock sounded at the door and Beni looked towards it with hopeful eyes, wondering if O'Connell had finally come to take his girlfriend away. Georgie picked up his rag and started polishing his gun again, squinting at his handiwork while their visitor knocked a second time. "Olivia, get the door," he said.

"I ain't gettin' it," said Olivia. "It could be a burglar."

"Why the hell would a burglar knock?" said Beni.

"He could be tryin' to trick us into thinkin' he _ain't_ a burglar. Just 'cause you're a dummy doesn't mean that _all _thieves are stupid."

"Olivia, get the damn door," Georgie said again.

Olivia strode up to the door in a huff, muttering something in Italian that Beni couldn't understand. For once in his life he actually _hoped _to hear O'Connell's familiar voice drift into the apartment, but the voice that greeted Olivia was definitely not O'Connell's. Beni swore under his breath.

"Izzy!" cried Olivia, throwing open the door to let their visitor inside. "It's been _ages_ since I've seen ya face 'round here. I thought ya didn't like me anymore."

"Of course I still like you, dearie," said Izzy, chuckling. "A fellow would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to like you."

"Oh, God," Beni groaned from his spot on the sofa. He had forgotten about Izzy. How could he have forgotten about an idiot like Izzy?

Unfortunately Izzy heard his groan and looked towards the sofa, his brown eyes widening in surprise. "Beni, you little scallawag!" he cried. "What are _you_ doing here?"


	3. Earnin' a Buck

_Earnin' a Buck_

Beni had never liked Izzy. He didn't know where O'Connell picked up an idiot like him, but Izzy was a never-ending pain in Beni's ass, always showing up where he wasn't wanted and making a fool of himself. He came ambling into Georgie and Olivia's apartment in that funny way of his, as if his legs weren't used to being on the ground, and he gave Olivia a wide grin that revealed a mouthful of crooked teeth. Beni wished he would get into one of his ridiculous airplanes and fly away permanently, taking Olivia with him for good measure. He could push her into the ocean and do the world a favor.

Georgie got up from his armchair with a scowl, his pistol clutched in one hand. "Izzy, what the hell have I told ya about comin' to my apartment?"

"I know, I know," Izzy said with a nervous chuckle, his eyes flicking constantly to the gun in Georgie's hand. "You don't like _anybody_ coming over to buy _anything_, but this is an emergency!"

Beni remained on the sofa and smirked, glad to see someone else intimidated for a change. If he was lucky, he might be able to sneak off and find some wine, or eggplant, or whatever Italians kept in their homes besides garlic and rosaries.

"I've told ya a million times, I don't do deals in my own home," said Georgie. "Didn't I ask ya to meet me behind the building?"

"I _did_ go behind the building, but there's this big dog hanging around," said Izzy. "I don't know about you, but I ain't gonna tangle with a big, vicious dog! Nearly lost a finger to one of those brutes when I was a kid."

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me your whole life story, why don'tcha?"

"Come on, man, can you really blame me for getting nervous around dogs? You should see the size of that fellow behind the building! Could rip your heart out with a single bite, and he'd enjoy it too."

"I can take care of him," said Georgie, raising his gun.

"Aw, Georgie, you wouldn't shoot a poor lil' dog, would ya?" cried Olivia, pouting at her brother. "What did a poor lil' dog do to _you_, anyway?"

Beni snorted at this. He found it hard to believe that Olivia had no problem pushing _him_ around, and yet she had all the sympathy in the world for some mangy dog she'd never even met. Unfortunately Georgie heard the slight noise Beni made and turned around to face him.

"Hey. Maybe it's yours," he said.

"What are you talking about?" said Beni.

"The dog. Didn't you mention somethin' about ownin' a dog earlier?"

"Oh, no, I could never afford to have a dog." Beni looked up at Georgie with big eyes. "I can barely afford to feed myself."

"Can we quit talkin' about the dog?" said Olivia. "Nobody's gonna shoot him, all right? Now Izzy's come all this way to visit us and nobody's given the poor fella a real hello." She drew closer to Izzy and gently nudged him with her elbow, tossing him a wink. "Tell me about the time you'n Richie went to Tripoli. I love that story!"

Georgie quickly forgot Beni and grabbed Olivia by the wrist, dragging her away from Izzy. "And I've told _you_ a million times not to talk to this guy, remember? Back home you'd get arrested for gettin' cozy with a guy like him."

"Well this ain't New York," Olivia shot back. "I'll get cozy with whoever I want."

"You'll shut ya mouth and let me take care of business, all right? This don't concern you."

"I, uh, see I've come at a bad time," Izzy said nervously. "I'll just step outside and—"

"Forget about it," said Georgie. "C'mere." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating that he wanted Izzy to join him in another part of the apartment, and sent a warning glare at Olivia before stalking out of the room. Izzy hurried after him with his slightly bow-legged gait and disappeared.

Olivia heaved a sigh the moment they were gone. "_Gawd_, what a killjoy. He's got some fuckin' nerve." She grabbed her handbag and flung herself down on the sofa, right next to Beni, landing with such force that she nearly jolted him out of his seat.

Beni scooted away from her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doin'? I'm havin' a seat!"

"Well sit somewhere else."

"What'sa matter, Beni? Ya scared of me?"

"You are a whore and I hate you," Beni muttered darkly to himself.

Olivia pretended not to hear him and dug around in her bag, letting out a crow of delight when she found what she was looking for. She produced a little round mirror, along with some cosmetics, and started to touch up her face despite the obvious layer of make-up she already wore. Beni rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Hey. Ya know what Izzy's here for?" Olivia asked, gently hitting Beni with her elbow.

"I don't care."

Olivia kept her eyes fixed on her reflection as she powdered her face. "He's here to buy morphine from Georgie," she said in a hushed, eager voice, as if she and Beni were conspirators in some elaborate joke. "Izzy just _loves_ morphine. Almost as much as he loves airplanes. He takes it 'cause he doesn't smoke opium anymore."

Beni glared at the rug on the floor. "Well good for him."

"I heard he went to Morocco and got _so_ hooked on opium, he couldn't leave his bed for a month. That's why he takes morphine instead. Georgie can't stand colored men, even more than he can't stand the Irish, but he likes earnin' a buck too much to turn him away."

"And why would I need to hear any of this?"

Olivia puckered her lips at the mirror, then relaxed them and took a moment to apply a dark red layer to her already crimson lips. "Ya know, you're really selfish, Beni."

"So I've been told."

"I mean _really_ selfish. No wonder nobody likes you."

"O'Connell likes me."

"Richie doesn't like you, ya dumb bastard. He feels sorry for you." Olivia shoved her mirror back into her handbag and looked at Beni, her eyes hard and unusually serious. "But that's what you want, ain't it?"

Beni frowned at her. "That doesn't make sense."

"Sure it makes sense. You _want_ people to feel sorry for you, 'cause you're not handsome enough or nice enough or interesting enough to get their attention any other way. You're like a pathetic lil' boy who cries all the time so the adults'll make a fuss over you."

Georgie chose that moment to stride back into the room with Izzy scurrying behind, a brown paper parcel clutched in one hand. Georgie took one look at Beni and Olivia, who sat glaring at each other, and asked, "The hell's goin' on here?"

"Your sister is being cruel to me," Beni whined. "I didn't do _anything_ to her."

"See, I told ya so!" said Olivia. "You _are_ pathetic."

"I wouldn't be pathetic if you were not so cruel to me."

Izzy edged towards the door, clutching his parcel to his chest. "Well, I'll be on my way, then..." When nobody made any attempt to stop him, he threw the door open and slipped out of the apartment, leaving the door ajar in his hurry to get away. Georgie slammed it shut, much to Beni's disappointment, and sank back into the armchair he occupied earlier, his thick arms crossed over his chest.

"You." He nodded to Beni. "Meet me here tomorrow, 'bout three o'clock. Tony Brass Hands'll be here."

Beni didn't like the idea of meeting with someone with "Brass Hands" in his name. It could only lead to trouble, and possibly pain on Beni's part. He forced out a laugh and tried to think up a quick excuse, but Olivia opened her big mouth instead.

"Come on, Georgie. Ya really want _him_ runnin' errands for you? He'll take the dope and run with it."

"If he does, he'll eat lead," said Georgie, with such a dark look in his eyes that Beni completely believed him. "Whaddya say, weasel?"

"It's Beni," Beni corrected.

"Well it's weasel now. You in or not?"

"Only if _she_ will not be here," said Beni, gesturing at Olivia. He supposed he could handle meeting with two dangerous Italian men, as long as there was plenty of money in store for him, but he was quitting the moment Olivia showed her face. He already received enough slurs and insults _without_ her generous contributions.

"Of course I won't be here," said Olivia. "I'm gonna be out with Richie. He promised he'd have lunch with me tomorrow."

"Lucky him," Beni muttered.

For once in his life, Beni almost felt sorry for O'Connell. _Almost._


	4. Not My Problem

**Author's Note:** I've been on a major writing spree lately, so here's another chapter much sooner than I expected. Also, the character of Tony Brass Hands was inspired by one of my favorite actors, Joe Pesci. If you haven't seen _Goodfellas, Casino,__ Raging Bull, _or_ My Cousin Vinny_, then you totally should because he's amazing in all of them. :)

* * *

_Not My Problem_

The last thing Beni wanted to hear at two o'clock in the afternoon was a knock on his door. He was seated on his bed, the only place to sit in his cramped apartment, and was busy counting the money he had stolen over the last couple of days. He may have been a poor illiterate bastard who could barely scrawl his name, but he had learned how to count at an early age. His head was always full of numbers, full of wins and losses that determined how often and how well he would eat each day. He figured he might have enough for dinner _and_ a prostitute that evening, when the knock sounded at the door and broke his concentration.

Swearing, Beni gathered up all of his money and stuffed it under the mattress, then grabbed the old cricket bat that stood in the corner. He didn't know why the hell the British would name one of their games after an insect, but it didn't matter how stupid the name was; the bat happened to be one of the few stolen items that Beni hadn't sold for a profit, and it came in handy when unwanted visitors came to his door. People usually thought twice about pushing him around when they ran the risk of getting their heads bashed in. Beni held the cricket bat tightly in one hand and opened the door with the other, wondering who had decided to pester him that afternoon. If it was Izzy hoping that Beni would swipe some morphine from Georgie, then he could forget it.

"Oh, no," he whined when he saw his visitor. "How the hell do you know where I live?"

"Richie told me, ya dummy," said Olivia, standing in front of his door in heels and a dress that just barely reached the tops of her knees, leaving her legs completely exposed. Her silk stockings were so thin, they were almost non-existent.

Beni tore his eyes from her legs and scowled. He should have known he couldn't avoid Olivia Catania. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I was s'posed to have lunch with Richie today, but he never showed up. I waited almost an hour for him!"

"Go tell someone who actually cares."

"Ya think I _like_ comin' to your lousy lil' rathole and tellin' ya this? I'm only here 'cause you might be able to find Richie for me."

Beni had never hit a woman before, but he was seriously considering how satisfying it would feel to give Olivia a good whack in the kneecap with his cricket bat. "Why would I help you? I am supposed to meet your stupid brother in an hour."

"You'll help me 'cause I'm Georgie's sister, and Georgie ain't gonna like it if he finds out his new errand boy was a jackass to his favorite sister. He's very protective, ya know."

Beni let the bat hang limply in his hand. Georgie would like it even less if Beni shattered his favorite sister's kneecaps.

"So you gonna let me in or what?" Olivia asked. "I'm meltin' out here."

She could go ahead and melt for all Beni cared, but the thought of Georgie's dark, angry eyes and muscled arms prompted him to shuffle aside and let Olivia waltz into his apartment, her heels clunking on the bare wooden floor. She immediately wrinkled her nose with distaste.

"My Gawd, Beni, you actually _live_ here?"

"No, I am just hanging around for the hell of it," said Beni, rolling his eyes at her. "If you don't like it, you can leave."

"Well now I know why ya don't have a girlfriend." Olivia smirked. "Besides the obvious reasons, like your ugly face and your teeny-tiny—" She suddenly screamed, her eyes widening with horror as something small and dark scuttled under the bed. "There's a mouse under there! Kill it, kill it!"

Beni didn't move. "It is only a mouse."

"C'mon, you've got a bat in your hand. Beat its head in!"

Beni had never seen her so hysterical before and started to laugh, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I did not know you could be frightened by a little mouse."

"It ain't funny," Olivia huffed. "I can't _stand_ mice. They've got those ugly tails and those beady lil' eyes, and they're always sneakin' around somewhere. They're worse than _you_."

"Why, thank you."

"I'm gettin' the hell outta here." Olivia's eyes darted around with fear, as if she expected a whole swarm of mice to come out from under the floorboards, and she delicately stepped her way across the apartment until she reached the safe refuge of the doorway. "C'mon, let's go find Richie."

"He probably left the country to get away from you," said Beni. "You will never find him."

"_You_ might do somethin' like that, but Richie wouldn't. He's a good guy."

"O'Connell is an idiot. I bet he is passed out drunk somewhere."

"You think every nice, brave, handsome fella is an idiot, don'tcha?" Olivia asked. She didn't move from his doorway, her fear of mice apparently forgotten.

Beni wished he could slam the door in her face, but one of her feet was still planted firmly in his apartment, and Georgie would kill him if he hurt her. O'Connell would probably kill him too, for that matter. "I don't think they are idiots," he retorted. "I _know_ they are idiots."

"Whatever ya say, Beni. Now can we go look for Richie already?"

"I'm not looking for O'Connell."

"Have I mentioned that it's Georgie's birthday today?" Olivia added. "I'm sure Georgie would just _love_ to break your arms on his birthday. Best present he could ask for, really."

"All right, all right," Beni grumbled. "Let's go."

He followed Olivia out onto the street, where a carriage pulled by two donkeys waited for them. The driver, an old Arab man, sat on his perch with his head resting on his shoulder as he dozed in the sun.

"What the hell is this?" Beni asked.

"It's how I got here," Olivia said eagerly. "I always wanted to ride one of these carriages with the funny-lookin' horses."

"Those are donkeys. Everyone knows that."

"Well excuse me. I didn't grow up in a barn, like _you_ probably did."

Beni didn't waste his breath arguing with her. He stood by and shielded his eyes from the sun, wishing his fez had some sort of brim, while Olivia woke up the driver. Next thing Beni knew he was sitting in the carriage with as much space as possible between him and Olivia, wondering how he managed to get pulled into these situations. All he wanted to do was mind his own business and avoid getting arrested from day to day, and instead he was traveling around town with the most obnoxious woman he had ever met.

"Ya know, I got a good reason for hatin' mice," Olivia spoke up. The carriage had been clattering along for less than a minute and she already couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Whatever it is, I don't care," Beni said wearily.

"Well I don't want ya makin' fun of me."

"I laughed at you one time."

"And you'll do it again," said Olivia. "Anyway, I'm bored, so I wanna tell ya. When I was growin' up in Brooklyn I lived in this apartment with my parents and my four brothers and sisters. Us kids all had to sleep on the floor 'cause we couldn't afford beds and there were always mice crawlin' around, gettin' under the covers when I was trying to sleep. We got rats, too. My lil' brother Vito got bit by a rat and almost died."

"You should have gotten a cat or something."

"We couldn't. My pop hated 'em."

"Well that is not my problem."

"I know ya don't care," Olivia said quietly. "But I was hopin' you'd quit bein' a bastard for once and _try_ to care about somethin', just a tiny bit." She leaned forward in her seat and told the carriage driver to stop. "I'll look for Richie myself."

Beni was taken aback by this sudden change of attitude, but once again he chose not to waste time arguing with her. Who did she think she was, anyway, trying to make him feel guilty for the way he behaved? She was a hypocrite, insulting him one minute and judging him the next. "Fine," Beni said as the carriage slowed to a halt. "Look for your precious _Richie_ yourself."

"I will," said Olivia. "And I'll find him, too."

Beni gave her one last sneer before he hopped out of the carriage and landed on the street, where he was free from her at last. Left with nothing else to do, he wandered through the hot city and tried to pick a few pockets, but he quickly gave up when he realized he wasn't in the mood. Time was ticking closer and closer to three o'clock and he finally took a cab to Georgie's place, figuring he would rather be early than arrive late by accident and pay for the consequences. The door to the apartment was unlocked and he slipped inside, half-expecting to find Olivia waiting for him on the sofa, but the room was empty. Voices floated out from the kitchen.

"—So I convince this Russian broad to go upstairs with me."

"Hang on a minute. I heard somethin'."

"Well I'm tellin' a story here!"

"And I said I heard somethin'. Lemme go up front real quick."

Beni froze, holding his breath as Georgie came striding into the room. He halted at the sight of Beni, his right hand flexing as if ready to fire a gun, but he quickly relaxed when he recognized his visitor. Or at least he relaxed as much as Georgie Catania was capable of relaxing.

"Get in here," said Georgie, his stern eyes fixed on Beni as he gestured behind him. "Tony just arrived ten minutes ago."

"What do you want me to do?" Beni asked warily.

"It ain't much. Tony's gonna explain it."

Beni had no choice but to follow Georgie into the kitchen area, where a man stood next to the small wooden table, fishing a cigar out of his jacket pocket. Georgie was built like O'Connell and Beni expected Tony to be the same, but Tony Brass Hands was surprisingly short and stocky, the complete opposite of the tall bruiser Beni anticipated. He took a couple of drags on his cigar before he finally acknowledged Beni, addressing him with the thick Brooklyn accent that Beni had learned to despise over the last couple of days.

"So you're the weasel, huh?" said Tony. He held his cigar in one hand as he talked, trailing smoke as he waved it around.

"Yeah, this is him," said Georgie, answering for Beni. "Slippery lil' weasel, too, so ya gotta keep an eye on him."

"Looks like a fuckin' rat, if ya ask me. You sure we can trust this guy?"

"Please, I am just trying to earn some money," said Beni, looking at Tony with wide, helpless eyes, hoping to gain his sympathy if he couldn't gain his respect. "I don't want any trouble."

But Tony wasn't interested in Beni anymore. He took a long drag on his cigar and turned to Georgie, who kept his dark gaze on Beni. "So what about my story? I was just gettin' started."

"We're doin' business here," said Georgie.

"And I was tellin' a good story. I hate it when I start a good story and can't finish it."

"All right, already. Finish the damn story."

Tony made himself comfortable on one of the kitchen chairs, cigar clutched between his fingers. "So I convince this Russian broad to go upstairs to my apartment. She's pretty for a Russian broad, one of those ballerina types. Got long hair and big tits, too. She ain't one of those flappers, or whatever the hell ya call 'em, with their short hair and those dresses that make their chests look flat. I like a girl whose chest I can actually see."

Georgie was getting impatient. "So ya get her upstairs. Then what happens?"

Tony shot him a little glare. "Don't rush me. I take her upstairs to my place and we go to bed. I'm kissin' her and peelin' off her clothes 'til she's down to her stockings and underwear, and I swear to you this broad is wearin' an actual corset. I mean, who the fuck wears corsets anymore? Musta stole it from her mama's wardrobe or somethin'. I try to unlace the corset and she slaps my hand away. So I try it again. She don't let me. So then I ask what the hell she's doin' and she says she wants me to fuck her while she's wearin' that thing."

"And did you?" Beni asked.

"Of course not. I said hell no to that. I ain't gettin' poked with bits of whalebone or whatever the hell they put in those things. So I start strokin' her hair and sweet talkin' her a little, and she gets all flustered and embarrassed and finally takes the corset off. I can't believe my eyes. Turns out this broad's chest is almost as flat as mine. She's been stuffin' the corset with some kinda cloth; cotton or some shit."

"So what'd ya do then?" Georgie asked. "You still take her?"

"Oh, I still took her," said Tony. "But after that I swore I'd stick to Italian broads." He let out a cackling laugh and resumed puffing on his cigar.

Beni didn't think the story was so great. He had heard much more exciting tales about women during his time in the Legion, and much dirtier ones in the dark little bars that littered Cairo. "So what was the point of that story?" he asked.

Tony pulled the cigar from his mouth and looked at him sharply. "What?"

"The story you just told. What was the point?"

"It ain't s'posed to have a point. It's just a funny story about a broad," said Tony. "What the fuck's the matter with this guy, Georgie? He stupid or somethin'?"

"Yeah," said Georgie. "Thinks he's a real joker too."

Beni scowled at this. He wanted to make money, but not if some Italian bastard and his squatty friend were going to insult him the whole time.

"Well you keep your trap shut 'til I say you can open it," Tony told Beni. He straightened up in his chair, cigar clamped between his teeth. "Now let's talk about business."


End file.
